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The Blowing away of 
Mr. Bushy Tail 





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THE 

BLOWING AWAY OF 
MR BUSHY TAIL 


By 

EDITH B. DAVIDSON 

M 


Pictures by 

CLARA E. ATWOOD 



NEW YORK 

DUFFIELD AND COMPANY 
1910 



©CI.A‘h3933 


m * vv, X > 




To my kind host- 
ess at Highwood 
within whose 
hospitable 
grates it was 
written, this 
little story is dedi- 
cated by the Author 





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i. AND WHEN SHE GOT THERE THE CUP- 
BOARD WAS BARE 9 


ii. NOT A CREATURE WAS STIRRING, NOT 

EVEN A MOUSE 

iii. MR. BUSHY TAIL GOES TOBOGGANING 

iv. ON THE WINGS OF THE NORTH WIND 
V. AT THE TOP OF THE SOUTH POLE 

vi. A QUILLY ACQUAINTANCE 

Vii. THE SNORTLING OF THE RING-TAILED 
SNORTER 


Vlll. 


21 

29 

39 

51 

63 

75 

87 


THE GENTLE SOUTH WIND 




And when she got 
there 

The cupboard was 
bare 




4 



T T had been an exceptionally cold 
winter, and Mr. and Mrs. 
Bushy-Tail had found it very diffi- 
cult to keep themselves and their 
two small children warm. 

They had finally moved into 

11 



Grandmother Chipmunk’s house- 
tree, which seemed to be more 
protected from the high winds 
and the heavy snow-storms, than 
their own pretty little nest. The 
rooms were rather small, however, 
12 


and Grandmother Chipmunk snored 
most awfully, so that for several 
nights Baby Bushy-Tail could not 
sleep. 

One cold snowy day, Mrs. Bushy 
Tail came into the living-room with 
a very sober face. 



13 


“My dear,” she said to her hus- 
band, “the acorns and pine-cones 
are nearly gone, and with the ex- 
ception of a few dried apples and 
lettuce leaves, there is nothing left 
in the cupboard.” 

“Ttt, Ttt,” said Grandma Chip- 
munk, laying down her knitting, 
and looking over her spectacles. 
“Whatever shall we do? Starve?” 

Thereupon little Frisky, the 
oldest boy, set up a fearsome 
14 


squeaking, for he liked good things 
to eat, and did not want to 
starve. 

Of course that started the baby 
off, and for a few moments no one 
could hear themselves think, much 
less talk. 

Frisky having been sent out of 
the room, and the baby being paci- 
fied with an acorn-cup to play with, 
Mr. Bushy-Tail spoke : 

“There’s only one thing to do; 

15 


said he, go across the frozen pond, 
and through the woods, to either my 
cousin Red-Squirrel’s or else to the 
Chipmunks’. They will gladly lend 
me corn or oats enough to feed us 
for another month, and by that time 
let us hope that Spring will have 
come.” 

“You’ll freeze in the deep snow 
said his wife, or else you will be 
blown to the North Pole by the 
fierce wind. Then I shall be a 
16 



widow, and what will the children 
do ? Oh dear I Oh dear ! ’ ’ and she 
began to cry. 

Mr. Bushy-Tail comforted her as 
best he could, saying that he knew 
the path well, that the trees would 
protect him from the fierce wind, 
and that he was too nimble and 
quick to sink and freeze in the deep 
snow. 

At last, he promised not to go 
the next morning, unless the wea- 

18 


ther was fine, so they all went to bed 
in their soft mossy nests. 



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Not a Creature was 
Stirring 

Not Even a Mouse 







T) RIGHT and early the next 
morning, Mr. Bushy Tail was up, 
had washed his little face and paws, 
and brushed out his pretty soft fur, 
of which he was justly a trifle vain. 
The sun was shining, and although 
the air was very cold, he decided 
23 


it was best for him to start for his 
cousin Red Squirrel’s. 

His wife bundled him up in a 
warm sweater and socks, which she 
had made him for a Christmas pres- 
ent. Over his shoulder he slung a 
bag for the corn, and promising 
surely to be back in two days time, 
he trotted away, after having kissed 
the entire family three times all 
around. 

The traveling was much better 

24 





than he had feared it would be; 
and he was fortunate enough to 
find a bush full of late rose-hips, 
from which he made a good dinner. 

Just as it was growing dark, he 
reached his cousin Red Squirrel’s 
house tree, and knocked on the 
door. Receiving no answer, he 
went in, for the neighborhood was 
a very honest one, and nobody 
locked their front doors, or their 
back ones either. 


26 









Poor Mr. Bushy Tail went from 
room to room, but to his sorrow he 
found no one, not even a mouse. 
There were some acorns and dried 
apples stowed away in one corner, 
so he made a passable supper, but 
he was worried by the thought, that 
the next day he must go on to the 
Chipmunk’s for the corn, and so 
might be unable to reach home the 
same night, as he had promised his 
little wife. 


27 


H owever, there was no use in 
borrowing trouble, so he curled 
himself up in a warm corner, cov- 
ered his back with his broad bushy 
tail, and was soon fast asleep, and 
dreaming that he had carried home 
a whole barrel full of food. 



28 


Mr. Bushg Tail goes 
Tobogganing 





CKapter HE 
Mr. [Sush\j-taiL 

2 ^es7obog^anincfj^ 


^ I ^HE next morning as soon as 
■*“ it was light enough to start, 
Mr. Bushy Tail set off through the 
woods to the Chipmunks’ house. 
He arrived long before dinner time, 
and found to his amazement, that 
his cousin Red Squirrel with his 
31 


wife and children, were making 
the Chipmunks’ a visit. 

They were all delighted to see 
Mr, Bushy Tail but very sorry to 
hear that his winter provisions had 
given out. However Mr. Chip- 
munk had a very large supply, and 
he at once filled his friend’s bag 
full of corn, rolled oats and dried 
peas. Willingly would he have given 
him twice as much, had Mr. Bushy 
Tail been able to carry it. 

32 



The family urged him to stay to 
dinner, but the sky looked grey and 
threatening, and Bushy Tail had a 
long journey before him, so he ate 
a hasty luncheon, thanked Mr. 
Chipmunk once more for his kind- 
ness, and with his heavy bag over 
his shoulder, he scurried off as fast 
as he could go. 

Very soon the snow began to 
fall, first, in large single flakes, and 
then faster and thicker. Scarcely 
34 


could Mr. Bushy Tail see the way; 
and after bumping into first a tree, 
and then a big bush, he lost his 
footing, scrambled about for a min- 
ute in the deep snow, and then sank 



35 


dovm, DOWN, DOWN, and landed 
kerplunk ! 

For an instant he was half-stun- 
ned, then he sat up and looked 
about him. 

“Thank goodness, my bag is 
safe,” thought he, as he spied it in a 
corner, where it had rolled. ‘ ‘ What 
should I have done if I had lost 
that? I could not possibly have 
walked up that toboggan slide to 
find it.” 


36 


Then he saw that he was sitting 
in a bed of soft ashes, and realized 
that he had fallen down somebody’s 
chimney. 

“Lucky there wasn’t a fire,’’ 
said he, to himself, “ or there would 
have been toasted squirrel for sup- 
per.’’ 



37 




On the Wings of the 
North Wind 



% 



TT Then Mr. Bushy Tail scram- 
* * bled out of the fire-place, he 
found himself in a strange little un- 
derground room, from which low 
passage ways branched out in every 
direction. 

He ran down one of the passage 
ways, but finding no one, he came 
41 


back and tried another. At the end 
of this one, in a cosy little room, he 
came unexpectedly upon an old ac- 
quaintance, Mrs. Mole, who was 
taking a comfortable afternoon 
nap. 

She awoke with such a start of 
surprise at seeing Mr. Bushy Tail, 
that she nearly fell out of her rock- 
ing-chair. 

“I did not hear you knock,” 
said she. 


42 





“I did not knock, I dropped,” 
said he. 

Then he told her of his accident, 
and apologized most politely, for 
falling so unceremoniously down 
her chimney. 

Mrs. Mole assured him that he 
was a welcome visitor at any time, 
and only regretted that her chimney 
had tripped him up. 

She was very sorry that her hus- 
band and sons were away on busi- 
44 


ness, but urged him strongly to stay 
to supper. 

With many thanks Mr. Bushy 
Tail was obliged to decline her po- 
lite invitation, but he assured her 
that, considering his hungry family’ 
he must hurry home with his bag of 
food as soon as possible, and begged 
her to kindly show him the nearest 
way out of her maze-like house. 

When, after following Mrs. Mole 
through a number of long, winding, 
45 


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passages, Mr. Bushy Tail came at 
last to the surface of the ground, it 
was snowing hard, and the dreaded 
North wind was blowing half a 
gale. 

He found himself outside the 
shelter of the woods, on a broad 
plain, and he felt that his only 
safety lay in getting back among the 
trees. 

He started off at full speed, and 
had gone some distance, when sud- 
47 


denly the North wind struck him, 
and lifted him completely off his 
four little paws. 

There was no use in struggling, so 
he lay quite still, and was whirled 
away, faster and faster. Miles and 
miles was he blown, until finally he fell 
asleep from sheer exhaustion and 
fright. 

When he awoke it was night, 
and still the wild wind was carrying 
him far, far away. 

48 


His precious bag was still on his 
shoulder, for he had clung to it even 
in his terror, but the string had be- 
come untied, and most of the food 
had been blown away. 

He ate a little of the corn, 
but he was too frightened to be 
hungry, and very soon, numb and 
dazed with the cold, he fell asleep 
again. 


49 


1 


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At the T op of the 
South Pole 





\ LL the next day and night, 
the fierce North wind kept 
on blowing a gale, but towards 
morning of the third day, it seemed 
to Mr. Bushy Tail that he was 
going more slowly, and just as the 
sun rose, he was suddenly dropped. 

What he rested on he could not 


53 


tell, but in a few minutes, as it grew 
lighter, he looked about him, and 
saw it was a very high wooden 
post. Then he knew he was sitting 
on top of 



the South 
Pole, where 
the N orth 
wind 1ms to 
stop blow- 
ing,. or else 
it becomes a 
South wind* 


54 



It was beautifully warm, and 
poor Bushy Tail stretched himself 
most comfortably in the sunshine, 
and thawed out his half-frozen little 
paws. 

He felt very much shaken-up 
and alone in the world, and, with 
tears in his eyes, he thought of 
his little wife and hungry babies, 
and wondered if he should ever 
get home to them. 

In the first place, he could not 

56 


see any possible way of getting 
down from his lofty perch. The 
sides of the Pole were very smooth 
and slippery, and the Pole itself 
was much too high for comfort 
or safety, if you tried jumping off. 



While he was pondering ways 
and means of descent, he heard a 
high squeaky voice say: 

“Try the middle course.” 

Peering over the edge of the 
Pole, Mr. Bushy Tail espied on the 
ground, far below, a funny little 
creature, such as he had never seen 
before. It was covered with long 
blue quills, and moved slowly, and 
with much dignity. 

‘ ‘ What is the middle course ?’ ’ 


58 




asked Mr. Bushy Tail, timidly. 

“Why the middle of the Pole, 
you goose ! ’ ’ replied the squeaky 
voice. 

Mr. Bushy Tail thought this 
mode of address not strictly polite, 
especially to a stranger, but he said 
nothing, and looked about him on 
top of the Pole. 

Sure enough, right in the middle 
was a little winding staircase, down 
which he scrambled into darkness. 
59 


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A Quillg Acquaintance 




' I 'HE little staircase seemed very 
dark and pokey to Mr. Bushy 
Tail, and he devoutly hoped that 
nothing would jump out and bite 
him. 

After a number of windings, 
however, he saw a faint light below 
63 




him, and a few moments later, he 
stepped through a low doorway, 
and found himself close beside his 
quilly acquaintance. 

“How do you do, and where 
did you drop from?” asked Squeaky 
Voice. 

“I am sure I don’t know 
where I dropped from,” replied 
Mr. Bushy Tail, “but I came a 
long distance, at a very high rate 
of speed.” 


65 



“Have a few ants for luncheon ?” 
inquired Mr. Quills. 

“Have a few what?’’ asked the 
astonished Mr. Bushy Tail. 

“Ants,” replied the Quilly One. 
“Red ants! White ants! Black ants! 
Speckled ants ! — just any kind of 
ants. They are all excellent, both 
as food and appetizers.” 

“No, thank you,” said Mr. 
Bushy Tail, in rather a disgusted 
“I do not care for ants. 
67 


voice. 


Do you eat nothing else ?” 

“Nothing!” answered the other 
proudly. “ I am the world famous 
Quilly Ant-Eater, of whom you 
have doubtless heard.” 

Now Mr. Bushy Tail had never 
heard of this celebrated personage, 
but he was too wise to say so. He 
only inquired where he could find 
a few nuts, for he was half starved, 
and also the nearest way to the 
North. 


68 


The squeaky Mr. Quilly Ant- 
Eater led him to a charming wood, 
where nuts grew in abundance, (as 
well as ants) for here at the South 
Pole it was 
summer, and 
the flowers 
and trees 
were in full 
bloom. 

Mr. Bushy 
Tail’s winter coat felt much too 
69 



warm, and as he could not shed it 
until Spring came in the North, he 
concluded that he had better travel 
home as speedily as possible, or he 
might melt away entirely. 

Mr. Quills did not know the 
way North, but he directed Mr. 
Bushy Tail to an intimate friend of 
his, Mr. Ring-Tailed Snorter, who 
was a great traveller, and would 
undoubtedly be able to help him. 

Mr. Bushy Tail felt rather timid 

70 


about meeting a person with such 
a fearsome name, but he felt that 
he must hurry home to his per- 
chance starving family. 

So, after thanking Mr. Quilly 
Ant-Eater for his kindness, he took 
his courage in his paws, and started 
off to find Mr. Snorter. 


71 




The Snortling of the 
Ring-Tailed Snorter 






FTER travelling for several 


miles, Mr. Bushy Tail entered 
a lovely glade full of flowers and 
ferns. 

He had heard, as he approached, 
a most peculiar noise, such as he 


75 


had never heard in his life. As he 
drew nearer, the sounds grew much 
louder, and finally he saw the stran- 
gest looking object seated on a tree 
trunk. 

It had the body and legs of a 
kangaroo, and the head of a mon- 
key. Its tail was extremely long, 
with furry rings around it, and was 
tasseled at the end; and to keep it 
out of the dust, it had been tied in a 
bow-knot around the animal’s neck. 
76 





The noise, which Mr. Bushy 
Tail had heard, proceeded from this 
person. 

‘ ‘ Who are you ?’ ’ he inquired, 
as Mr. Bushy Tail approached. “I 
am the celebrated Ring-Tailed 
Snorter, and you may now have the 
privilege of hearing me snortle,” 
which he proceeded to do most 
vigorously. 

Poor Mr. Bushy Tail was scared 
almost out of his wits, for never had 
78 


he heard such terrible sounds. 

After a few minutes the Snorter 
stopped snortling, and said : 

“Now, whai do you think of 
that ?” 

Never have I heard anything to 



equal it,” replied the tactful Mr. 
Bushy Tail, and he certainly never 
had. 

“If you’ll stay with me. I’ll do 
it for you everyday,” said Mr. Ring 
Tail. 

“Thank you kindly,” said Mr. 
Bushy Tail, “but much as I should 
enjoy it, I must go home as soon as 
I can to my starving family. 

He then told Mr. Snorter what 
had befallen him, and of his great 
80 


I 





desire to travel back to the North, 
in the speediest manner. 

“Come on!” said Mr. Ring 
Tail. “Just jump on my back, and 
I will take you to a friend of mine, 
who can whisk you there in no 
time.” 

“ Hadn’t I better fill my bag 
first with these fine nuts?” asked 
Mr. Bushy Tail. 

“No, no, don’t bother about 
that; you’ll find nuts all the way 
82 


home,” answered the other. So on 
jumped Mr. Bushy Tail, and away 
they went. 

“Hang on tight to my tail,” 
said the Snorter, as he leaped along. 

Never had Mr. Bushy Tail trav- 
elled at such a peculiar gait. It was 
like leap frog, only more so, and 
he felt as though he were on a ship 
at sea. However, he held on tight, 
and hoped for the best. 


83 


! 





The Gentle South 
Wind 




^ I ^OWARDS evening, they reach 
ed the top of a high hill, where 
Mr. Ring-Tailed Snorter stopped 
leaping, and gazed towards the 
South. 

“ Here comes my friend,” said 
he. “ Good bye,” and without 
a “ by your leave,” or the chance 


87 



of a “Thank you again,” the South 
wind had caught up Mr. Bushy 
Tail and was whirling him rapidly 
N orth wards. 

For nearly a week they travelled 
on, but much more pleasantly than 
with the fierce North wind. 

At times the wind would stop 
blowing, and Mr. Bushy Tail would 
be gently dropped in some pretty 
wood or meadow, where he could 
find plenty to eat and to drink. 

89 


He filled his bag to overflowing 
with the most delicious squirrel’s 
food, and only regretted that the 
bag was not bigger. 

At last one evening, the wind 
softly dropped him, and blew on 
alone. Mr. Bushy Tail looked about 
him, and saw that he was in his own 
woods, only a short distance from 
home. 

How fast he scampered toward 
his house tree. He scarcely noticed 
90 



that since he had gone away Spring 
had come, and the first soft green 
shoots were covering the trees. The 
grass was full of flowers, and the 
birds were singing merrily. 

Quickly he ran up into his nest, 
and there they all were, the dear 
wee family ; Mrs. Bushy Tail, the 
children, and dear old Grandmother 
Chipmunk. 

How delighted they were to see 
him. Poor little Mrs. Bushy Tail 
92 




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quite broke down and cried with 
joy, for she had never expected to 
see her husband alive again. 

Mr. Chipmunk and Mr. Red 
Squirrel had come over, a few days 
after Mr. Bushy Tail’s visit, to in- 
quire if he had reached home safely, 
and to bring great bags of provisions. 
When they heard that their friend 
was still missing, they had looked 
very anxious and sad. 

The snow storm, in which Mr. 

93 




Bushy Tail was blown away, had 
turned into such an awful blizzard, 
that every one thought he had been 
buried in the deep snow and frozen. 

What a fine supper Mrs. Bushy 
Tail cooked from the wonderful 
bag, and how much they all ate. 

Mr. Bushy Tail was told what a 
good boy Frisky had been, and how 
the baby had cut a new tooth, with 
which he had accidentally bitten 
Grandma Chipmunk. 

95 



tucked away in his soft nest, they all 
sat down close to the fire, while Mr. 
Bushy Tail, taking Frisky on his 


96 




knee, told them o{ all his wonder- 
ful adventures. Of Mr. Quilly Ant- 
Eater and the Ring-Tailed Snorter; 
of that surprising slide down Mrs. 
97 


Mole’s chimney, and of the terri- 
ble North wind. 

And there we will leave them, a 
happy and contented little family. 


98 






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Composition, Presswork and Binding 

L. H. JENKINS 
Richmond, - Virginia 






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